


Peter Pan Never Fails

by Amurtinyburr12



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, but i like it, he didn't die, he's too cute, not sure where this is going, peter pan never fails
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-26
Updated: 2015-05-06
Packaged: 2018-02-27 03:47:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2677874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amurtinyburr12/pseuds/Amurtinyburr12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The magic cuff worked, and Peter Pan was subdued. He has failed...or so the residents of Storybrooke are led to believe.</p><p>THIS WORK WILL PROBABLY NEVER BE FINISHED.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Sound of Clocks

**Author's Note:**

> Written after the author saw Once Upon a Time season 3x11 (I think its episode 11, the one where Peter d-i-e-s) but its still to painful to say he dies so I made a new ending. This story is a curse, and a product of crying, not-sleeping, Peter-Pan withdrawl and watching countless videos on YouTube about him.  
> So, in this one Peter Pan is NOT dead and the cuff that takes away your magic worked on him, mostly because I lack inspiration to think of any other way they could have subdued him without killing him or Mr. Gold. 
> 
>  
> 
> PS DID YOU KNOW THEY LISTED PAN/ROBBIE KAY ON WIKIPEDIA AS A GUEST STAR?  
> WHYYYYYYYYYYY???? (Oh...maybe because he died...)

There are exactly three clocks in Peter's hospital room. 

He hates them. He has never hated anything more in his entire existence.

The sound of the clocks, working in unison, are driving him bloody insane. He lies in the white sheets of his bed, clutching the sides of it with pale knuckles as if his life depends on it.

Tick, tock, _tick, tock, TICK TOCK._

It's the sound of growing up, and if there is something Peter Pan will not do; it's grow up.

There's a knock at the door, it makes him visibly cringe, but he doesn't turn his head to see who it is. He keeps staring into space, listening to the ticking of the clocks and brings himself dangerously close to the border between sane-person and psychotic. He teeters on the edge, poking a foot over the chasm and pulling back. He can't take it. _He can't take it._

"There's a lot of talk of what we're going to do with you," The newcomer speaks quietly, and it's hard to tell what they're thinking. The visitors footsteps come closer, padding softly to his bedside. 

Pan doesn't respond, just tightens his grip on the bed and tries to block out all the noise. 

"Regina wants to kill you," his guest continues after a slight pause. "You did after all kidnap her son, trick him into giving you his heart, and switch bodies with him. What else could be expected?" A faint chuckle before Pan can feel the visitors eyes burning into his face.

It's hard to follow what the newcomer is saying, he's so  _exhausted_ but he knows more than anything else that he doesn't want to talk. He's busy, he's plotting. He has a plan...he does.

The voice keeps going, never changing tone. "Henry doesn't want her to, though. He thinks you deserve a second chance. Emma seems upset over the fact of murdering a child, but I assured her that you are anything but. And the Charmings, well, as also expected they think you should receive a second chance and invite you to change your ways. They are the 'heroes' and I suppose that's what heroes do." It's hard to tell if there's disgust in the words being spoken, admiration. 

Peter clenches his jaw, tunes the clocks out, then quick as a whip turns and grab's Rumpelstiltskin arm, squeezing it hard in his vise-like grip. "What about you laddie? What do  _you_ want to do?" His voice is strong and still carries the undertones of playfulness that it did in Neverland. 

Rumple doesn't answer, his eyes and emotions are unreadable. Instead, he pries his hand out of Peter's grasp, then tilts his head to look at the king of Neverland. "Once upon a time, your hold was not this weak. What's changed?"

Peter gives Mr. Gold a scathing glare before turning over in his bed and closing his eyes, a clear signal that the conversation is over.

"You can't win this one, Peter. You're done, and you will _never_ hurt the people I love, ever again." Rumpelstiltskin bends down so his mouth is hovering above Peter's ear and in a low rasp he snarls: " _So I invite you to do your worst."_

The Dark One leaves, confident and arrogant as ever, stalking away with ease.

"That's right, Rumple." Peter's eyes gleam maliciously. "Let's play."  

 


	2. Save Pan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter Pan doesn't need magic to kick butt.

When Belle came to visit him in his hospital room, it was far easier than Pan would have liked to persuade her to unlock the keys to the handcuffs that held one arm tightly to the hospital bed and free him. He'd waited patiently, which was a rather large achievement since Peter Pan  _never_ waited patiently for anything.

"Rumple won't give me a chance to say I'm sorry...I just...I thought he'd understand. He abandoned his boy..." Peter heaved a deep breath and released an anguishing sob as the girl sat on a stool next to him, concern evident in her eyes. "I just wish he'd see it like I do. I have to- I _need_  to talk to him, but as you can see," He gestured with his free hand to his chained limb and shook his head tearfully, playing the part of a  _distraught_ and broken man to the tee. 

It took a few minutes, longer than it would have with say; Henry, but Belle was wise. However, the right push and the reinforced idea that he actually cared for the no good larva called Rumpelstiltskin was enough for her to get up and unlock his aching wrist. Seeing as Belle had been in Storybrooke and not in Neverland, she hadn't exactly witnessed his evil intentions face to face before, and Pan decided he wouldn't label her a fool until she'd seen how ugly he could be.

As she'd looked at the boy who appeared not a day older than seventeen, her had heart ached terribly to see him crying raggedly into his shoulders. He truly had seemed sorry for what he'd done. 

Peter rubbed his hand gently, trying to get feeling in once more. "Thank you," He gave Belle a real smile, and not his usual crooked grins or fateful smirks. 

The sincerity in his son's girlfriend, or whatever she was to him, was almost enough to make Pan feel slightly guilty for tricking her. "It's the least I could do. I believe in second chances, even when everyone else thinks you're a monster. I see the good in people and I believe that you are genuinely-"

 "Get away from him!" 

Belle turns in the direction of the new voice, and Peter seizes the opportunity to grab the nearest item- a glass of water- and throw it with the little strength he has left right at Belle's head. She crumples on impact and Pan leaps up from the bed and sprints for the door, only to stop dead in his tracks when David Nolan, the ever so charming prince and his less-charming bride rush forward from where they'd been standing in the elevator.

There's a short pause, a moment of hesitation, Snow and Charming glance at him and back at Belle's unconscious figure before surging toward him again.

Peter scowls and stalks forwards to intercept them. "Really, must we do this again?" He feigns a bored expression and leans against the counter in the hospital's hallway. The receptionist looks like she might faint, but holds her tongue as the Charmings approach.  _  
_

"That's what I was thinking," Snow mutters, her words barely audible.

"Pan, there is no point in escaping. You've got nothing left, just give up." David sounds exasperated as he closes the distance between themselves and starts pulling out a fresh pair of handcuffs. "Turn around, put your hands behind your back and don't move or we'll have to use squid ink on you." To give credit to David, he didn't say  _'or we'll have to use squid ink on you **again**.' _

The eternal boy raises an eyebrow at David's statement, then frowns like he's been genuinely offended. "I am  _hurt_ that you don't trust me. Besides, I just wanted to ask if someone would take this cuff off me. It itches like a demon." He smirks, and holds up the arm that bears the dreaded cuff that he created, and despite David's order to not move, perches himself not unlike a cat on top of the receptionists counter. 

"There is no way in hell we're taking that off." Mary Margaret scoffs, narrowing her eyes at the boy. " I don't know how much experience you have with people outside of Neverland but we aren't fools and will certainly not be tricked by the likes of  _you._  We all know that's the only thing blocking you from using magic."

"Oh, is that right? I forgot," Pan bats his eyelashes innocently. 

"That's it!" David raises his voice now, anger and impatience radiating from his tone of voice. "Get on the ground, arms behind your back and I mean it." 

Peter sighed loudly, dragging himself dramatically from the  counter into a half kneeling half standing position. "Is this alright?" He asks, as if he really cares if it's the right posture. His eyes sparkle with mischief, and his voice is laced with a disturbing amount of playfulness. It's as if the kid thinks this is merely a game. 

"Yeah, okay...whatever." David pins his arms behind his back rather forcefully. Mary Margaret stands close by, her eyes lit with fire. 

Peter has to grit his teeth to prevent himself from striking out as pain shoots up his limbs, but he holds himself still.

 _Not yet,_ he reminds himself.

David turns back to his wife. "I don't think it's a such a great idea to keep him here anymore. I mean, the past two times haven't been any different and we've given him a lot of chances."

"But where else would we put him? Pandora's Box was destroyed, and we haven't officially voted as a town whether to kill him or not and I..." Snow drifts off, when she notices Pan shifting his weight on the ground. His intentions are clear in an instant. "DAVID!" She cries out, but not quickly enough.

He's already jumping to his feet and kicking their own out from underneath them, grinning all the same.

Snow hits the marble counter on her way down, much to Pan's amusement.

He stoops down and swiftly plucks the key to the handcuffs out of David's fingers before giving the prince a solid kick to the head, just to make sure he's out of it. There's no time to kill them unfortunately, he has to escape before anyone else realizes he's missing. "Pity," He shakes his head distastefully. "Thought it'd be a little harder to take both you two down. The stuff of legends you know..." He pauses and grins coyly. "But, I suppose, so am I."

He nods at the terrified receptionist, then shedding the restraints as he goes, takes off down the stairwell, faster than he's ever gone in his life.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not really sure where this is going at all. Comment what you want to happen. 
> 
> Also, I was told that Peter's escape wasn't very realistic at all but you see that kind of crap all the time in movies so I don't see why it can't happen here. Plus, Peter is super fast...and agile...and stuff so...he CAN take out two people by jumping up and kicking their legs out in a matter of like one second.
> 
> Also, I named this after that episode called Save Henry only its Save Pan because he wants to save himself. The lack of originality, as I've said before, is overflowing.


	3. Lost Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pan is only one teensy step away from getting everything he ever wanted.
> 
> The only problem? He's still got the magic preventing cuff around his arm. 
> 
> He'll stop at nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I went ahead and took Alex's suggestion- thank you for commenting :) I added some of my own ideas, and somehow it all went...well you'll see.  
> I do really appreciate comments, so if anyone wants me to write about something specific, I'll totally do it if I can fit it into the (measly) plot I have.
> 
> I'm not sure about this. May do a rewrite, I'll sleep on it and see how I feel. So... this entire thing could be changed by tomorrow.

Pan beat his bloodied and bruised arm against the wall, screaming profanities and howling like a wounded animal. Forcefully, he shoved his thumb in between the leather cuff and his skin, pulling with all his strength. Face twisting up with effort, he grunted and released his hold, panting hard and growling in frustration. Thankfully, he was back behind Granny's in a darkened ally, and since there seemed to be no where else the residents would eat _except_ Granny's, every one of them would be eating inside with no suspicion that someone was beating themselves to a pulp outside. 

This was  _not_ how he'd planned this evening to go. The blasted cuff, the one that he'd so foolishly crafted, would not give even after Pan had tried nearly every trick in the book to remove it. It had loosened if not just a little. He could feel the magic within him, such a small swirling bit but enough to do minor magic. Given that he didn't throw fireballs (which really wasn't his style anyways) or teleport anywhere. He saw no other option, except to perhaps cut it off. The only problem was getting his hands on a weapon...actually the people of Storybrooke were so deliciously foolish it wouldn't be a problem at all. Although, removing a limb didn't sound that appealing at all. Wrinkling his nose at the thought, Peter couldn't suppress a horrified shudder. 

He cast another hate-filled glare at the leather on his wrist but did not throw himself at the wall again. How else could the cuff come off?  _Think Pan, think._

If he were back in Neverland, he'd simply have to believe it was gone. In Neverland, anything you truly put your faith into would happen just as you thought.

He'd _kill_ the Evil Queen and the Dark One for messing up his plans. He wasn't in Neverland any more than a bird had gills to swim. No... that train of thought would get him nowhere. 

... _Or would it?_

The eternal boy swallowed hard and raised a hand into the air. If this worked... if this worked he could finally exact his revenge. His shadow, previously used as a mast to sail the _Jolly Roger_ \- the disgrace!- jerked free from the sail with ease and took flight into the sky. In a matter of seconds it had flown to his aid and sunk back into his body with a sickening slurp. Peter took a moment to regather himself, then put all his concentration into looking at the cuff, reaching deep within himself straight down into the core. He closed his eyes, and  _believed._

Neverland wasn't just a place, it was connected with him. It's fate and his were intertwined, walking hand in hand. His magic was Neverland's magic. Neverland was he, and he was Neverland.

When he cracked open an eye, he was dismayed to see the magic disabling item still perched on his arm. He tilted his head and thoughtfully raised his arm closer to his face to inspect it. "Alright, I do like games. Especially the challenging ones." 

~ ~ ~ ~

Peter needed a child. Child-like belief was something nearly equal in power to true love and would rid him of his magic-less problem. 

Of course, the owner of the Heart of the Truest Believer didn't like him very much, and would make it difficult for Pan to convince the kid, Henry, to believe in him. No...he'd need a different child. Henry would have been preferable, but was out of the equation. 

The boy stalked back down the alleyway, muttering curse words under his breath before stopping completely. 

A little boy was toddling straight down the street, right toward Pan. 

"Roland! Come back!" A distant laugh shouted from beyond the alley, a good length away. 

Pan looked incredulously at the small child coming closer to him. He was practically all but gift-wrapped. It was nearly too good to be true, but as the little boy bumped into Pan's leg, whom he hadn't noticed before colliding with, Peter shrugged inwardly and thought _why not take the gifts that Fate tempts you with?_

"Hello, laddie," He bends down until he's equal with Roland, looking him straight in the eye. "Are you a lost boy?"

Roland takes a shaky step back and looks at Pan with big innocent eyes. "W...Who are you?" 

"Roland! I told you not to run off!" The voice that had previously called for his child, rang through the air. This time it was closer.

The king of Neverland considers just grabbing the boy and running, but he only needs him for a moment. "My names Peter. Peter Pan, to be exact."

The child before him blinks, and hugs his arms closer to his chest. 

"Roland...this might sound a little strange but I need you to believe in me. Can you do that?"

Roland stares uncomprehendingly, and his mouth slackens a little.

"To hell with this," Peter rolls his eyes, then grabs Roland's arm. There's a tugging sensation in his gut, and he isn't sure he has enough magic to do it. It hurts like a thousand bee stings, and a searing pain wrenches itself through his overloaded mind before he's standing blinking, and staring face to face with himself. 

"Roland!" A man comes down the alley, grabbing him under the arms and lifting him up. The man looks at the boy who was standing by his child and frowns. "You're...you're Peter Pan. I thought they'd put you in the hospital, saying you'd gone crazy and that you wouldn't be out for awhile."

Pan stares back in confusion, taking a small step forwards, before croaking out: "W..What?"

The man adjusts Roland in his arms and shakes his head to clear his mind. "Crazy as a bat, you are. I'll let the hospital know you're here...I don't like the idea of you being in alleyways to lure in small kids."

Roland presses his face against the man's neck, hugging him close. "I'm scared," He whispers in a quivering voice, looking back at Peter. 

"It's alright son, let's go." The man carrying the little boy turns and begins to walk away, not looking back at the unfocused teenage boy. "Regina's having us over for dinner."

"Daddy! Daddy! Don't leave me!" Peter hears himself shout, desperation evident in his voice, as they walk away. 

"Crazy, crazy, crazy he is." The man holding him chuckles, shaking his head in near disbelief. "Should get that boy into an asylum I tell you."

Roland shifts in his father's arms, and peers over his shoulder to crack a smile at the boy standing the alley. 

Peter Pan _never_ fails, and he always finds a way.


	4. Quite a Treacherous Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is named similar to: Quite a Common Fairy (Season 3 Episode 3) 
> 
> Pan's got Roland's body.  
> Robin Hood doesn't know.  
> Regina has the two over for dinner.  
> The trouble and havoc continues to grow.

Switching bodies was something he'd done before, so frankly Peter was a little surprised when Regina and Robin Hood hadn't noticed. The dull idiots. 

The clanging of metal against plates heaped with apple pie fills the air, and Peter can't help but scowl to himself. 

"Roland, you've been so quiet all night," Regina stops pushing her pie around with a silver stick to give him a comforting smile. "Do you like the pie? I baked it in oven this time, instead of just warming it in the microwave like last time." 

_Oven? Microwave?_

Pan shrugs his little shoulders and gives Regina the most adorable look he can muster. "I wike it a wot. I'm tired to...though..." He yawns for effect, blinking his eyes in mock sleepiness. It's strange feigning tiredness when he can't even remember the last time he settled down to sleep. He never had to of course, Neverland's time ran through him and if he wished it could be daytime  _all_ the time. Peter Pan didn't get tired, but Roland did so he would have to act the part. 

"Looks like my boy's all tuckered out," Robin Hood commented with a grin, reaching over to pick up Peter and set him on his lap. Pan did his best not to shudder as he was pressed against the archers stomach and his hair was stroked gently. 

 _I will tear his shadow into oblivion,_ He promises himself darkly as Robin plants a kiss on his forehead.

The leader of Neverland waits for a bit, pretending to doze off for awhile as the Evil Queen and the Bandit make sickening flirtatious conversation. 

"Daddy?" He forces himself to call after his ears ring with too many ' _well you are not as evil as they say_ ' phrases and the like and congratulating himself for not choking on the simple name children call their male parent.

"Hmmm?" Hood asks distractedly, staring into Regina's eyes like there was no tomorrow. Their fingers were dangerously close to making connection. 

"I wanna visit Pewter Pan," 

There's a silence before Regina recovers enough to cough out a strangled:  _"WHAT? Why?"_

"He's a lost boy. Daddy you're a thief and you steal a lot," He makes his eyes go wide with innocence, and his words are laced with sickly sweet little kid-ness. "But to steal stuff you gotta find it too. Let's find the lost boy and make him happy. He can be our family."

Regina bursts out laughing before she see's the look on Roland's (Peter's) face. "Oh...uh I'm sorry Roland." She immediately begins correcting herself. "But Pan is beyond redemption, I don't think he can ever be found. He's a lost boy and he can not be in our family. I don't know what I'd do if he hurt you." 

Pan knew what Regina would say, but that doesn't stop the stab of hurt that hits him. Still, its good the rejection. It fuels his anger.

"You think we're a family?" Robin Hood looks at Regina with a sly smile and a mischievous twinkle in his eye. 

Regina takes his hand in hers, in twining her fingers with his. "Of course I do."

"Can I go potty?" Pan asks abruptly, trying a new tactic. He has no wish to stick around for the sequel of Not So Innocent Flirting. 

"Sure Roland," Hood sets him down gently, eyes still trained on Regina. "Need any help buddy?"

_Not on your life._

"No tanks I gots this," He gives another smile (which is ignored by the adults) that could melt puppies and unicorns and toddles on his way down the hall. When he's sure the two are too lost in one another's eyes and are reciting poems to each other he creeps back down the corridor and slips into Regina's office.

Regina would have magic here that could get the cuff of his (Roland's) arm, and he's going to find it. He finds Regina's desk and slides open the drawers with a bit of difficulty. How Roland manages to get anything is a wonder on these tiny stick legs. Peter would be crying with relief when he got back into his own body. Switching bodies was taxing work, and usually the other body wasn't much fun.

Pan sifted through boring papers filled with dollar signs and numbers- being an adult must suck. He needed magic not phone bills.

However, he knew most her potions and magic items were kept with her dad's corpse -ew- but there was no reason the mayor wouldn't have potions in her house. And indeed, there was a spell inside that could help. A purple vial sparkled at him invitingly, and Peter grabbed it in one swift movement. A little of this vile _*get it vile, because its in a vial?*_ stuff would do just the trick. It'd be able to take out any foe, living or item as long as he had the upper hand. Magic always had a price, so if he lost the upper hand the potion would simply stop working. Of course, it depended on how much you used for the length of time.

"So little Roland's not so little anymore," A voice interrupted his moment, reeking of contempt.

Peter turned slowly toward Regina. The witch was practically shaking in anger and she growls through clenched teeth: "What have you done with Roland, Pan?"

Peter blinks at her slowly. "I don't understand..."

"Quit playing games!"

"But I love games so much," Pan finally cracks a wicked smile and holds up the vial of purple liquid for the older woman to see. "And now it's time to rearrange the board." He tilts his head at her, casually walking closer. "How about a nap Regina? I bet your tired from making that crappy apple pie." He brings the vial to his lips and blows the liquid content straight at the queen. It turns into what might resemble dandelion seeds as it floats into the air, transforming from its liquid state.

Regina gives Peter an unimpressed look at lifts her hand to deflect it. Until Pan runs forward and tackles her, that is. Normally, physical stuff isn't his forte. Especially in the body of a three year old (or however old Roland is). But it's a distraction, and a good one at that.

"Regina? You alright?" He hears Robin shout from the other room. The shuffling of feet indicates that the man might be getting up.

"All good!" He calls back in a horrible imitation of her voice, and can only hope that the other man will fall for it long enough for him to get out.

Regina staggers backwards at the sudden impact of his weight but doesn't fall. The dandelion potion clouds around her and the Evil Queen starts to say something, probably something like:  _'You little imp!'_ but doesn't get the chance. She hits the floor hard, but not a sound is made. Dandelion magic can do that, absorbing the darkest things and muffling them. Magic, power, light and even sound.

Peter retrieves the bottle and inspects the liquid left inside. Plenty enough for him to do what he needs. He only used a drop on Regina, and he won't need much to get the cuff off his wrist. Ah, how he loves magic.

Oh how he loves toying with the people of Storybrooke. They were just so fun to play games with, it was a wonder they ever wanted to vote on if he should live in the first place. Their mistake.

He opens the office window as silently as he can, wincing at the creak it makes, then hauls himself up onto the sill, pants and takes a heaving breath then slips into the starry night without uttering a single word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I ran into a roadblock and couldn't decide how to write this one. Because...if Pan switched bodies with Roland (which is what happened to be clear) then he should have his magic back since the cuff isn't on Roland. But then again, his actual body is the one connected with Neverland...right? Or does it matter what body he's in?
> 
> So... I just went on the path that goes: Real Pan's body still has the cuff on him, so he's still magicless until he gets it off.
> 
> This chapter was a pretty fast write. The next one is going to have a lot more thought put into it, more detail and a lot less stalling for the next chapter. SNEAK PEAK OF THE NEXT CHAPTER: Where Roland and Peter Pan switch back into each other's bodies and Peter pays a visit to his dear and beloved son Rumple.


	5. It's Really Easy Being Pan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is similarly named to the episode in Season 3 with the Wicked Witch: It's Not Easy Being Green
> 
> Rumpelstiltskin in the next one
> 
> 12.4.14 I'll update the next chapter soon, I've been super busy and I'm sorry. I started it, but can't post it since it isn't done. Thanks for your patience!

Peter found himself still in the alleyway, hunched into a corner with his back to the brick wall of Granny's diner, sobbing away chest shaking tears. The boy trapped inside his body is obviously terrified and confused, his shoulders are shaking uncontrollably and the only thought that runs through is head is how his daddy abandoned him. It's simply pathetic.

Pan wrinkles his nose in disgust, the way the toddler abuses his youthful body is truly a sickening sight to behold. He considers kicking the younger boy, just to comfort himself, but thinks better of it. A bruise on his skin wouldn't feel too nice once he was back in himself, even if he could heal it with magic. 

"Roland you've been less than a formidable opponent but I'll still congratulate you on a game well played," Peter gave a slight smirk as he bent down to grab the boy's hand and pull him up. "I'm nice that way."

Roland gets to his feet awkwardly on the taller legs and wipes his reddened eyes to give Peter a tear-filled look, which was something Pan never wanted to see on his own face ever again. "Emma was here. She knows."

Peter swiftly removed the purple dandelion potion from his pocket and uncorked the top. "Why should I care if Emma knows?"

Roland gave Pan a look, one that might have radiated confidence if there had not been the quivering lip factor. "Yeah, she's still here." 

That's all the incentive Peter needed to bring the vial to his lips and blow the contents onto Roland who could not react for the fear of the magic bottle had paralyzed him. The dandelion-like seeds floated onto the cuff, and the leather disintegrated before both their eyes. It was mesmerizing, the way the enchanted seeds blew with a faint purple-ish light surrounding them. They dance and float onto the cuff and the leather glows purple as well.

A triumphant grin spread across Roland's face, who was actually Pan at the moment. Magic could not be contained.  _He could not be contained._ The surge of power he felt was indescribable, the electric seizure that coarses through his veins without mercy, angry and relentless for being pent up for such a period of time. It's a thunderstorm, a hurricane, a fire and tornado all wrapped in one, battling for dominance inside his soul.

And then, after the wind in his ears had died to a slow steady beat, he found himself looking back down at the little larva they called Roland.  


"Well laddie, off you run or this game is going to get far less pleasant for you." Pan looked disinterestedly at the toddler, a look of warning flashing in his eyes, and Roland turned immediately and scampered off without looking back, little legs pounding asphalt and concrete. 

There's a pause before Pan finally turns and looks into the darkened alley, narrowing his eyes at the shadows. "Swan, you can come out now."

The blonde looks slightly irritated as she comes out from behind a small pile of rubble, dusting off her pants as she does so. "Why'd you let him live?" 

"Do you really think I'd kill an innocent boy?" Pan drawls out the sentence, stalking closer to the Savior.

"No I guess not, Peter Pan would never murder a little child even though he rips people's shadows straight from their bodies," Emma deadpans.

Peter can't help but a grin as Emma rushes forward and shoves him against the wall, her breath hot on his face. "If you'd hurt that boy, I  _swear-"_

"What? What would you have done from your little corner?" He raises an eyebrow, taunting her.

Emma swallows hard, pushing her blonde hair out of her face with ferocity then bringing her hands to Pan's throat and squeezing slightly. "I'd kill you," She promises, her voice gravely and harsh and no hesitation behind the threatening words.

Pan shrugs slightly, but doesn't try to push Emma back. They both know he's allowing her to have the upper hand. For now. "You'd kill me, Emma? Even if Henry didn't want you to?"

Something flashes in the Savior's eyes and she bites her lip momentarily. She presses harder into his throat, and the lack of air is a little worrying but Peter doesn't concentrate on that. He has found his opening. 

"Would you really do that to him? After abandoning him the first time, leaving him with the Evil Queen and then coming back you'd betray his trust," his voice drops into a low whisper, from oxygen deprivation or method of toying with people Emma wasn't sure. _"Just like that?"_

Emma shakes her head, but her eyes are dark and Pan  _knows_ there's something she's feeling, something she's battling. "I...Henry...I _hate you..."_

 He stands to his full height, stares down at her then blasts her backwards. The blonde woman tumbles on the ground a good few feet, panting and dazed. "What would your mother and father think? Killing like this...that is not the hero way. Even having that thought makes you almost as bad as actually doing it." His words take it's effect and the daughter of the Charmings begins to look lost.

"Good talk Emma. And, to make it all that much more fun, I'll leave you a gift." He looks at the remains of the purple potion, and waves his hand over the top before setting it down at her feet. "This can kill me, but once you use it...everyone will know you've done it. And I've enchanted it so that it can  _only_ kill me and not wound or knock me unconscious." He starts to walk off, a grin spreading across his face. He's never felt better. "It's your choice Lost Girl. You figure out what you want."

And with that, he departs leaving a confused and struggling Savior behind.

 


	6. Nasty Habits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is where Pan goes to see his son, since I decided not to put it in the last one.
> 
> This one is named exactly the same as Season 3 Episode 4

Watching his son make awkward moves on a girl that could easily be his great great granddaughter was enough to make Pan want to find the nearest bean to create a portal and transport himself out of Storybrooke. 

But he couldn't. Not when the game was still in motion, and as always he would win. 

Rumplestilitskin, AKA 'The Dark One' AKA his sniveling son was currently trying to charm himself into the good graces of his ever-patient Belle, who really could have done much better in Peter's opinion. 

Pan observes the frail couple, rolling his eyes as Rumple hands his dagger to the girl. "I want you to know you can trust me. And I can't think of a better way to do that then this," He's saying, attempting a smile at the words. Belle is too shocked to reply, staring at him with an open mouth for three whole seconds as her clever mind tried to wrap around it. "Your trusting me with your dagger?" She finally asks, incredulous and Pan won't say he isn't a little taken aback himself. Here he thought his son was just as selfish as he, but clearly he was a tiny bit mistaken. 

"Belle, it's not about the dagger," His son reaches forward to brush a strand of hair from her  cheek and Peter just knows they're about to seal the transaction with some form of romance so he clears his throat loudly from where's he's been sitting on the counter.

Rumple is up in a flash, nobly shoving Belle behind him and grabbing his cane in the other as if he intends to whack his father over the head. Peter wouldn't put it past him, so he does not let his guard down and eyes the stick carefully. 

"Don't stop on my account," Peter holds his hands up in mock innocence, feigning surprise at their expense. Belle looks slightly flustered, but stands forward while touching the back of her head at the memory of glass connecting with her skull. 

"I let you out of the hospital...oh my gosh. Have you..." She pauses and takes an unsteady breath of air. "Have you hurt anyone?" 

"Of course he has, it's in his nature. Now get back Belle, I insist." Rumpelstiltskin hisses through clenched teeth, moving a protective arm in front of his girlfriend. 

"You've never trusted me have you laddie?" Pan muses, swinging his legs dramatically on the counter, dipping them up and down at random patterns. 

"Maybe when I was a foolish boy, but I assure you I am  _not_ a boy now and I," He glares pointedly, and there's something charged in the air between them. " _Will not hesitate to rip your heart from your body and crush it before your eyes."_

Peter allows the reality of those words to sink in, not for him but for Belle before giving her a shrug. "It's like some people can never change, all this time him trying to be good. You've really got your work cut out for you."

Belle frowns, takes a step forward and lifts her chin defiantly. "I don't think your son is work at all." She casts a smile at her boyfriend and touches a gentle hand to his arm. "I like being around him." 

Peter drops off the counter, placing one foot in front of another as he nears the two other people. "Besides  _Dark One_ I thought tearing people's hearts out was Regina and Cora's thing, not yours." 

His son has the right to look offended, spreading his arms with indignity plastered on his face. "Who do you think taught them that?" 

"Rumple, don't listen to him. You know he just wants to get a reaction from you, don't give him the pleasure." Belle's voice is faint, and lands on ears that are not focused on her. 

"That's right, do what your little girlfriend wants," The king of Neverland grins wickedly, raising an eyebrow in a goading gesture. 

"Enough games!" Rumpelstiltskin shouts, his voice louder this time and more commanding. It's odd, how much that wee lad has changed over the years. But, so has he so he won't penalize his son for becoming the Dark One. It was a truly impressive feat, considering his lineage. 

Pan almost feels bad for what he does next, but there is no room in his heart to love his son. The one who wanted to ruin his life from the start... no he could never feel anything for this man. "I'm afraid the games have really only just begun..."

Suddenly, he's standing behind Belle and he plunges his hand through flesh and clothing, grasping hold of something throbbing and pulsing. He grips it firmly with his fingers, and tugs it from her body with the swiftness of wind. There's nothing violent from the way he does it, more like he casually started reeling a fish from a fishing line. 

He holds the heart for both people to see, cherishing the stricken look on Rumple's face as he smirks at them. "Aren't you the one who wouldn't mind taking my heart and letting it disintegrate before my own eyes? If that's true, it can only be said to be equal if I do the same to something you love. You see, I love myself. You love Belle. It's your weakness, and something you can't overcome. Loving others comes with a price," He gives Belle's heart a calculated squeeze, causing her to gasp in pain and stumble backwards. "As soon as you learn to let go of love, only then can you truly be free." 

Rumple catches Belle as she trips over herself, a hand over the place her heart had been. "I will kill you," He promises, glaring at Pan with such ferocity that even the demon boy himself was stunned into silence for a millisecond.

"This is the part where things get interesting," Pan heads for the exit, rolling Belle's heart between his thumb and forefinger.

Rumple lets out a blood curdling scream and then there's an arrow heading straight for his gut, and Pan doesn't make the mistake of grabbing the handle to stop it. Instead, he simply waves his hand and the weapon dissapears.  

"Next time, don't scream before you attack," He advises, opening the shop door and leaving with a triumphant grin spread across his face. 

 


	7. Restless Minds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Named similarly to Season 3 Episode 15 "Quiet Minds"  
> Killian Jones is a bit of a restless mind, with a lost soul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, when I started this I didn't think past the part where he's sitting in the hospital. I wasn't even thinking at all. 
> 
> So...what is going to happen now? No clue really, I've got some idea. Actually, not really. Comment for what you'd like to see

Peter never really wanted to rule the people of Storybrooke as their "ultimate leader". He didn't want them to become mindless zombies in a world he knew he could never be happy. No, that was all much to 'Evil Queen' like.

Pan wanted to actually, truly, enjoy his new Neverland. A tropical plant here and there, deadly poison plants to the left and yes...he could picture it clearly. There was something missing however, and Peter let himself regret taking Felix's heart. His loyalty had sustained Peter for centuries, and the true friend would always hold a place in his own heart.

He needed to rebuild his band of Lost Boys.

Peter went down to the docks, sat on the wooden planks so his legs were dangling over the water and pulled from the folds of his pocket a pipe. With practiced hands, he ran his fingers along the tip before raising it to his lips and playing a couple notes, sorrowful yet jaunty at the same time. The pitch filled the air, beat after beat and note after note, flying away into the night. He wants it to find one man in particular, and his magic does not fail.

At first no one came. But after a few minutes, Pan detected movement behind him.

He finished his eery song before turning and grinning widely at the visitor. "Killian Jones," He smiled with amusement. "How lovely of you to join the party. It's a pleasure to see you." There were unreadable undertones in the eternal boy's voice that set off alarm bells in Killian's mind.

Captain Hook pauses for a moment, considering his options, before eventually taking another slightly hesitant step forward. "I wish I could say it was a pleasure to see you, but under these circumstances I would really rather not lie. You're a bloody idiot Pan, if you think you can stand against the Savior or Gold or any of the people in Storybrooke." The pirate has come so close that he's nose to nose with the boy that appears to be a teenager, brandishing his hook under Peter's nose. The Boy That Never Grew Up has the decency to hold back his chuckle and hops to his feet, pushing Killian's hook away dismissively.

"Is this how you greet an old friend?"

The Captain can't help but snort, rolling his eyes and turning so he's walking a few paces away. His hand and weaponry hand drift behind his back as he shakes his head and sighs. “I knew it was you the second I heard that music.” “Why do you think you can hear the music?” The boy muses, eyes shining with malice. “Are you done playing games? I already know that only the boys that are lost can hear this music, and so therefore by my hearing it you’d consider me a lost boy. But...” Hook’s voice lowers an octave, threatening and serious. “ _I am not a boy.”_

Pan spreads his arms, in a universal term of surrender, though both of the two know that he means anything but ‘surrender’. “Take it easy Jones, I haven’t called you hear to taunt you. I merely wanted to see who in this town felt lost. Let’s talk about the why and how I can help you. Your such a restless mind... a poor lost soul. Why do you feel this way?” 

The Captain of _The Jolly Roger_ looks like he may spill his doubts and insecurites right there and then but holds himself back. Pan knows what he feels anyways, he just likes his victims to talk. The pirate is anxious, intimidated still by the strange and tech filled Storybrooke, still trying to be there for Emma and shed his villainous past. 

The never aging teenager waits for an answer then with a slight smirk waves a hand and three bottles of rum appear at the pirates feet.

Killian glances down and the temptation is clear in the way he closes his good hand into a fist and his tongue flicks forward to lick his lips. “I...I don’t want it.” He croaks out, less confident than he’d hoped. 

“I know you love a good drink,”

Another pause.

“Aye, that I do. But if it means you getting me drunk and stupid so you can make some sort of fool out of me, like gaining my allegiance while my mind is muddled then I’ll have to refuse kindly.”

“ _Pretty pretty words_ ,” Pan spits out, his temper starting to get the better of him. “But you see, just because you refuse to do anything I ask doesn’t mean I can’t make you.” There’s a flash of understanding in the Captain’s eyes before he turns and begins to run, sprinting at the fastest pace he can. It’s a silly and futile attempt, the pirate knows but he can’t stand still while Pan strips him of his identity and uses him as a puppet.

That’s all he is to everyone he knows anyways. A puppet for them to use. Why should it be any different?

Peter lets Killian run for a bit, then wills the tree branches to come forth and wrap themselves around the older (but younger in reality) man. “So anxious to play my game already. I assure you, it involves a lot of running so I'll ask nicely that you don't tire yourself before it all starts. I’d hate for you to be killed in the first round."


	8. Think Evil Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Named derived, mostly, from Season 3 Episode 8 of Once Upon a Time (Think Lovely Thoughts).
> 
> Peter knows exactly how to manipulate people into what he wants and he's good at breaking the rules. 
> 
> So if one were to tell Peter it's illegal for a bad guy to get a happy ending?  
> He loves a good challenge.

Peter's got precisely two loves:

1) Power

2) Himself

And, there is  _nothing_ better than seeing the two walk hand in hand, together as they should be. It gives him sort of a rush, a tingle of sorts. Not having his magic was a roller coaster of emotions, though he is good at hiding them, and now that he is able to murder his enemies with the flick of his wrist again he's about 1000% cockier and oh goodness he is _loving_ the terrified looks his victims give him as they cower in fear. The sensation of being in control is enough to make anyone insane from giddiness- it's no wonder after all these years he's still operating on a mostly sane level at all.

As of the moment, he's still managing fine, his latest plaything being none other than one of his dearest and oldest friends Killian Jones- or as children in the mortal world understood him: Captain Hook.  

"Look here, Pan," Killian strains against the tree branches holding him in place, kicking his feet wildly. "Everytime someone has used me to get what they want  _it never turns out as they plan._ So before you do something rash," Here he pauses to fix his eyes intently on the immortal boy's. "You'd better know  _exactly_ how you're going to do it."

Peter can't help but grin slightly at that, but the smile is not reflected in his eyes. He stalks closer to the entangled man and raises one eyebrow as if to say _you-really-are-adorably-pathetic._  "I assure you Killian, my plans will go as I intend them to. Think evil thoughts!" He taps his own head lightly then clasps his hand together smoothly and gives Hook one of the most charming faces he can muster. "Now, are you going to willingly work for the winning side, or stick with the dirty cheaters and liars?"

"I'm a pirate, you bloody demon. Dirty cheaters and liars are my specialty."

"I was afraid that would be your answer." It wasn't like the pirate was all that loyal to the Storybrooke people anyways, his allegiance would swing whenever he was in the mood so Pan knew asking hadn't been a waste of time. If the odds were in the enemies favor, that two-faced fool would run to whichever team he thought held the upper hand. Apparently, he didn't believe the odds were in the Neverlandian's favor.

His loss.

Still, there are two things Pan hates:

1) Helplessness

2) Rumpelstiltskin

And if he had to pick a third it would be Killian Jones not believing that he could win this battle. It made Peter uncomfortable, as if a bug was crawling under his skin and  _dang_ he was  _powerful_ and  _smart_ -  **there was no way he could lose.**

Along with his list of two (plus one) things he's hates it's most of all Rumple. His arrogant manner and unlike his spiteful toad faced son, he doesn't try to do 'fireworks and circuses' with his magic. He won't wave his fingers in an over dramatic fashion or make a bright poofy purple cloud appear. No, he'll instead think of what he'd like and it'll appear without the special effects. So, before the Captain can blink again, Peter is clutching in his hands a small cruelly glinting iron box which contains a tiny flickering brown-red tinted flame. It's elegant, engraved with spirals and meaningless letters, lost to our time, but it's purpose is one of deadliness, that much is clear.

"A candle?" Hook asks incredulously, his gaze sweeping over the box with suspicion. 

Peter holds it closer to his face as if inspecting it and begins musing aloud. "It does appear to be some sort of fire...I wonder if it hurts?" And with that he's all but leaping on Killian and shoving the tiny flame into the vulnerable exposed skin on the  back of his neck and soon there's screeching and such graphic events follow that it would really be much to scarring and terrible to even consider writing down how bad the pain was. It can only be described as the following, and it is merely a small taste of what Killian Jones really endured.

"You see," Pan says through gritted teeth as he struggles to keep the Captain's limbs still (really all the flailing was getting quite annoying). "This is not actually a candle, but the deadly Fomorroh's skin melted together into one beautifully painful concoction."

Killian's muffled screams of agony abruptly cut Pan off and he has to roll his eyes and give him a sharp look. "Anyways, the Fomorroh happens to be a deadly serpent, used back in the days of Old Religion crap in which high priestesses and whatever would enslave the minds of the enemies." Peter can't help a smug look. "Look's like your the winner Jones, lucky you!"

"I...I won't let you do this!" Hook's usually handsome face is twisted hideously and red all over. His hands, still restrained at his sides are twitching and balled into white knuckled fists. His words are a jumble so he mostly sounds like " _Iwontwetwoudoshihshhhh!"_

Peter of course still understands what he wants to say, and instead of replying enhances the heat of the fire already burning away Killians skin and eating itself into his soul. 

There's a long moment where nothing happens, Captain Hook doesn't seem to be in pain and Peter is standing there with a candle. And then, when the moment has passed, Hook asks in a small voice he probably had hoped to sound brave: "What are you doing to me?"

"Why stripping you of your identity of course until there is only one resounding thought in that pea brain of yours," is the answer, as if it should have been obvious in the first place. Pan presses harder.

The Captain's looks like he wants to respond but when he opens his mouth only a ragged _"ughhhhhh"_ comes out and then his eyes roll back into his head. His limbs fall utterly limp and Pan waits a few seconds before withdrawing the deadly flame from the pirate's neck. 

Pan tosses the Fomorroh candle away, letting it vanish as it sails through the air. He gives a short nod  to the tree branches and they withdraw back into themselves, becoming as still and motionless as they were before Pan enchanted them.

He scans the perimeter, just as precaution then bends low so his lips are almost touching the pirate's ears. "I give you a mission, Killian Jones." He pauses, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. "Start moving in on Emma Swan, you will gain her trust. Thwart her at any opportunity that may present itself, and if there is a moment when you believe she is at her weakest you shall  _ **kill the Savior.**_ "

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, it's been awhile with this story. I'm not sure if I even have it in me to make it any good. Sorry for the short chapter.
> 
> If only I were like most writers who seem to have a huge plan and can execute it perfectly in like 53 chapters whereas I can barely manage three. Oh well.
> 
> If you were wondering about the Fomorroh, I totally stole that from Merlin. But they both involve magic, so I hoped it made sense that Pan would use it too.


	9. Good Form

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hook was already devastatingly charming and persuasive. Combine a dash of Peter Pan + Mind Control there's zero chance Emma Swan can keep pushing this pirate away.

There's something different about the captain lately, but Emma can't seem to pinpoint exactly what it is. Does she like that he's acting more chivalrous than ever? Does she like the genuine smiles he gives her? Does she like how old-fashioned and determinedly gentleman he is? It's too difficult for her to tell and all she really knows is that something is different about Hook. He's made her forget her worries, anything she'd ever doubted about herself as her emotions take hold.

"You've been a little strange lately," Emma finally says what's been on her mind for the past few days as the two sit across from one another in a booth at Granny's. She takes a nibble of her hamburger as she watches Hook's eyes dart uncertainly around the room for a second before refocusing on her.

"Different how?" He asks in his husky completely un-charming way that makes Emma feel like a teenager again. 

"I don't know," Swan shrugs tilting her head to think about it. "You used to drink a lot more for one but lately I've not seen one bottle in that hook of yours." 

The pirate shuffles the salad on his plate around and noticeably swallows before looking her in the eye. "Rum isn't particularly good for a man. It also helps if there happens to be a lady around that doesn't like your drinking habits. Say you want to woo said lady..." Hook waves his arms dramatically, smiling adorably as he does so. "Drinking ceases."

Emma leans forward so her elbows rest on the table. "Hmm, that's some pretty deep stuff." She finally says after a long pause, the corners of her mouth curving up in the smallest of smiles.

"Well, I care about this girl deeply so I should hope it sounds poetic or romantic on some level." The pirate says in a low voice, eyes locked on hers, not unlike a predator looks at its prey.

"Right, talking about drinking problems is very romantic," Swan can't help but release a laugh. "Maybe there are some things you should stay out of like trying to sound romantic. Still, you can trust me not to tell anyone that you've gone crazy since I'm sure it's illegal for pirates not to drink."

The captain perked up at that, back straightening and going almost rigid.  "Have I earned your trust?" 

Emma squinted in confusion at him before answering with a long drawn out: "....Yessssss?" which ultimately turned into a: "....nooooo? I don't know."

Hook looked dispirited at her words and he didn't say anything for a few of the longest seconds of Emma's life. This was getting too uncomfortable. "Oh," is all he finally says before turning his attention back to salad shuffling.

 

"Um okay...I've gotta pick up Henry from Regina's in a couple minutes so I should really get going," Emma takes the chance to avoid any further awkwardness and glances at her watch while her other hand fumbles for her bag. "I'll see you around, okay?" 

The pirate looks less than pleased for a moment, an almost dangerous look flashes across his face but then it shifts back to normal and he's helping Emma from her booth with such politeness that Emma begins to wonder if she imagined it all along.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It's a few days later when Emma finds herself sprawled on the street outside her car and groaning in pain when a familiar voice sounds from above. 

"Miss Swan, I might go far enough to say that you've really fallen for me," Hook teases as he puts out a hand for her to grab. She latches on gratefully and pulls herself to her feet, clumsily falling against him and trying to regain her balance. 

"Sorry," She mutters struggling to pick up her car keys, purse and jacket that all tumbled to the street with her. 

"No trouble at all," Hook replies sincerely. "I only wish I'd been able to catch you before you'd taken that spill."

Emma gives him an authentic smile.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The next week is a whirlwind of "dates" as Henry calls them though Emma insists they are "semi-romantic outings". Mary Margret seems delighted at the prospect of Hook and Emma becoming a couple whilst everytime she see's David he seems to be carrying a permanent scowl and shakes his head disapprovingly about the whole pirate concept. 

"There isn't time to be romantically involved right now," He pointed out to his daughter on one particular evening. "Pan is still on the loose and we've no clue where he is. We need to find him before anything gets out of hand and we can't have distractions." 

"That's hardly fair," Emma had grumbled but promised him that she would not proceed with Hook while Pan was at large. (Her fingers were crossed behind her back.)  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"And this is the finest chocolate in all the world that I ordered weeks ago so it could get here on your birthday," Hook grinned, scooping up a handful of brown chocolate coins and letting it pour through his fingers back into the box. 

"You already got me a ton of stuff, I feel a little overwhelmed." Emma flushed slightly as she pointed to the mountain behind her (containing a TV which Hook called a magic box, diamond necklaces, actual gold coins, rum and other numerous items). 

"Good, you deserve it." The pirate beamed and popped one of the chocolates into his mouth.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

"You got a love letter from Capn' Hook," Henry calls from the living room as soon as Emma steps inside the house. He's sitting on the couch with a bowl of chips balanced precariously on his leg and a game controller in one hand. 

"That's strange, I didn't know barbarians were literate." Emma grins as she plops herself down beside Henry. He hands her the envelope and continues blasting zombies on the screen.

"Fun day at school?" Emma asks absently.

Henry says something in response but she isn't listening. The words scrawled on the paper in fancy old-timey looking cursive have taken her breath away.

_Emma Swan, it would be my greatest honor to take you on a luxury cruise this weekend with all the rum and expenses you can get in Storybrooke._

For a moment she considered everything that could go wrong. If this letter wasn't from Hook that would be bad for starters. Or, what if the boat capsized somehow and they all died? What if David found out and he never forgave her for going with him? What if Hook had some sort of evil memory relapse and-

No.

Stop.

Emma didn't care.  _I don't care._ She told herself, taking a deep breath. She would do this for her. 

She hadn't done anything for herself lately, running Henry around, helping David with numerous jobs, being the Savior all the time. 

This one weekend could be her get away, her escape from duties. 

After all, what could possibly go wrong? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Named after Season 3 Episode 5's "Good Form" I completely copied that title. This was short, forgive me. I'm working on another fanfic too (at the exact same time which I do not recommend you'll get confused) and yeah.
> 
> What could possibly go wrong Emma? Hmm...


End file.
